(Cover photo from NASA’s Solar and Heliospheric Observatory (SOHO) LASCO C3 camera 9/25/2012 10:18 AM, clearly showing the Nibiru (Planet X) complex with moons and debris in the shape of the legendary thunderbird.)
**The cover and title on Renewable Wisdom is changed. Please note new one above.
There is a worrying undercurrent of fear in societies worldwide, increasing daily as we witness disaster after disaster, vast changes in weather, strange sights in the skies, economic upheaval and increasingly chaotic times.
This book will delve into the detriments of a fear mentality and into the true nature of existence from the perspective of many wise people, both living and dead. There is much here about the concepts of love, death, along with a wide range of Native American prophecy. The hope is that these writings will do a lot toward allaying those fears and giving each of us firmer ground on which to stand and survive whatever may come.
CHAPTER 1
"Human history is indeed a long tale of ongoing transformation, some of it good, a lot of it bad. Technology changes our physical world and religion changes the metaphysical one. The chaotic mess that is our current existence arises from the fact that our physical world is shifting faster than is our ability to assimilate the changes. In addition, our spiritual life has badly atrophied from inattention. We are off balance and out of sync, in body and especially in spirit. This results in worldwide feelings of confusion, impotence and stress. Any effort we make under these conditions will be far less than optimum, but yet we try. For our own well being there is an urgent call to transform our own selves and reconfigure how we live and interact in our world. At the very least, we must come to the realization that the world will do what the world will do, to be accepting of that, and strive to contribute our talents in every way we can and be happy with life within that framework.
Every place on Earth, like every person, has a distinct character. Perhaps it is time to listen to the spiritual elders of other cultures when they implore us to respect and honor Mother Earth. It’s possible, with Western ingenuity and intuitive wisdom, that we can cross the threshold into a new and joyous existence.
As we look at Native traditions and prophecies of First Peoples and also of Eastern thought across the planet, we see that they are rooted in myth and metaphor. Western traditions find their genesis in science, history and fact. With global information technology, for the first time all are accessible. It is obvious these differing world views represent the two hemispheres of the brain: the intuitive right and the reasoning left. When interpreting dreams or prophecies it should be remembered that a literal approach is often misleading, just as it might be with poetry. This is particularly the case with the prophecies presented here. What might be implied is a transformation of human consciousness from one view of the world to another, and the emergence of a new dimension through assorted cataclysms which are clearly mentioned. So we see not the end of the world, but a new beginning.
Perhaps it's time that we have a new story. The old story that we have in the West does not fit with a concept of the universe or the dignity of humanity in a global sense. We are not in accord with the wisdom of nature and our kinship with all life forms in the air, on land and the sea, or in the cosmos, for that matter. We are not separate from nature, nor its master, having been tossed here from someplace else! We are of the Earth, of the universe. Our eyes are the eyes of Earth, of the universe. Our voices are the voice of Earth, of the universe. We are indeed consciousness itself. There is an ancient Mayan greeting, en lakech – ‘I am another yourself’', that best states our relationship with all life forms. When we are weak and prone to our own negativity, we pollute the field of consciousness which, in turn, produces a negative reality.
We need a philosophy for the whole planet, not this group, that group or the other group. When one views Earth from the Moon, you don't see boundary lines or divisions indicating nations or states. The new story should be seen with the eye of reason, not nationality; the eye of reason, not my religion; the eye of reason, not my language group; the eye of reason, not my life form.
Nothing illustrates the eye of reason better than the following letter, sent by Chief Seattle of the Dwamish Tribe in Washington to President Pierce in 1855.
“THE GREAT CHIEF in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. The Great Chief also sends us words of friendship and good will. This is kind of him, since we know he has little need of our friendship in return. But we will consider your offer, for we know if we do not so the white man may come with guns and take our land. What Chief Seattle says you can count on as truly as our white brothers can count on the return of the seasons. My words are like the stars – they do not set.
How can you buy or sell the sky – the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. Yet we do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water. How can you buy them from us? We will decide in our time. Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing, and every humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father’s graves and his children’s birthright is forgotten. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage and does not understand.
There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to listen to the leaves of spring or the rustle of insect wings. But perhaps because I am a savage and do not understand – the clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lovely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night? The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind itself cleansed by a mid-day rain, or scented by a pinõn pine: The air is precious to the red man. For all things share the same breath – the beasts, the trees, and the man. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench.
If I decide to accept, I will make one condition. The white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers. I am a savage and I do not understand any other way. I have seen thousands of rotting buffaloes on the prairie left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive. What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit, for whatever happens to the beast also happens to the man.
All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth.
Our children have seen their fathers humbled in defeat. Our warriors have felt shame. And after defeat they turn their days in idleness and contaminate their bodies with sweet food and strong drink. It matters little where we pass the rest of our days – they are not many. A few more hours, a few more winters, and none of the children of the great tribes that once lived on this earth, or that roamed in small bands in the woods will remain to mourn the graves of the people once as powerful and hopeful as yours.
One thing we know that the white man may one day discover. Our God is the same God. You may think that you own him as you wish to own our land, but you cannot. He is the Body of man, and his compassion is equal for the red man and the white. This earth is precious to him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator. The whites, too, shall pass – perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. When the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses all tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by the talking wires, where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
We might understand if we knew what it was the white man dreams, what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights, what visions he burns into their minds, so they will wish for tomorrow. But we are savages. The white man’s dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden, we will go our own way. If we agree, it will be to secure your reservation you have promised.
There perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish. When the last red man has vanished from the earth, and the memory is only the shadow of a cloud passing over the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people, for they love this earth as the newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat. If we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your memory the way the land is as you take it. And with all your strength, with all your might, and with all your heart – preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves us all. One thing we know – our God is the same. This earth is precious to him. Even the white man cannot escape the common destiny.”
Is that not soul-stirring?
The way humans see the future varies widely between those who live by intellect and those who depend on intuition. It has to do with time. In the West, there is a beginning, a middle and an end. There is history. Intuitive cultures experience time as a cycle, such as Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, in a hoop, a circle. At the center of the hoop is the eternal present; these cycles revolve around that. There is no end.
The prospect of incorporating Ancient with Western thought is exciting, but could be dauntingly difficult. This notion might be considered, however, in an era that is very long on problems and seemingly short on answers. If somehow we could tip the balance toward growing our hearts instead of our wallets, the result might be astounding! Envision each tradition working side by side like tall pillars forming a gateway. Between them a new pathway winds into the future, with the best from both worlds enabling the physical and spiritual health and progress of the others. The combined strength of such a people renders a vision of a much deeper, richer existence for all."
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
Umbilicus (the author)
Chapter 1 – A New Story
Chapter 2 – The Hopi Nation
Chapter 3 – The Timeless Tao
Chapter 4 – What About Love?
The Bible
Mohandas Gandhi
White Blur (the author)
Khalil Jibran
Mother Teresa
The Rig Veda
Buddha
Pope John Paul II
Chapter 5 – Stalking Wolf, Apache Nation
Chapter 6 – Henry David Thoreau
Chapter 7 – Death
W.E.B. DuBois
Louisa May Alcott
Edward M. Kennedy
Go (For My Father) the author
Chapter 8 – Eyes of Fire, Cree Nation
Chapter 9 – Carlos Barrios, Mayan Elder
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Chapter 10 – Bennie LeBeau, Shoshone Nation
A Sioux Story
Chapter 11 – Red Elk, Intertribal
Chapter 12 – Self-Reliance
Preparedness
Recovery Lists
Temporary Shelters
Sanitation
Leo Tolstoy
And Lastly
Prayer for Earth (the author)
Excerpts, other books by the author
Apocalypse or Renewal? available now on Amazon
--Jo VonBargen 2012
**The cover and title on Renewable Wisdom is changed. Please note new one above.
There is a worrying undercurrent of fear in societies worldwide, increasing daily as we witness disaster after disaster, vast changes in weather, strange sights in the skies, economic upheaval and increasingly chaotic times.
This book will delve into the detriments of a fear mentality and into the true nature of existence from the perspective of many wise people, both living and dead. There is much here about the concepts of love, death, along with a wide range of Native American prophecy. The hope is that these writings will do a lot toward allaying those fears and giving each of us firmer ground on which to stand and survive whatever may come.
CHAPTER 1
"Human history is indeed a long tale of ongoing transformation, some of it good, a lot of it bad. Technology changes our physical world and religion changes the metaphysical one. The chaotic mess that is our current existence arises from the fact that our physical world is shifting faster than is our ability to assimilate the changes. In addition, our spiritual life has badly atrophied from inattention. We are off balance and out of sync, in body and especially in spirit. This results in worldwide feelings of confusion, impotence and stress. Any effort we make under these conditions will be far less than optimum, but yet we try. For our own well being there is an urgent call to transform our own selves and reconfigure how we live and interact in our world. At the very least, we must come to the realization that the world will do what the world will do, to be accepting of that, and strive to contribute our talents in every way we can and be happy with life within that framework.
Every place on Earth, like every person, has a distinct character. Perhaps it is time to listen to the spiritual elders of other cultures when they implore us to respect and honor Mother Earth. It’s possible, with Western ingenuity and intuitive wisdom, that we can cross the threshold into a new and joyous existence.
As we look at Native traditions and prophecies of First Peoples and also of Eastern thought across the planet, we see that they are rooted in myth and metaphor. Western traditions find their genesis in science, history and fact. With global information technology, for the first time all are accessible. It is obvious these differing world views represent the two hemispheres of the brain: the intuitive right and the reasoning left. When interpreting dreams or prophecies it should be remembered that a literal approach is often misleading, just as it might be with poetry. This is particularly the case with the prophecies presented here. What might be implied is a transformation of human consciousness from one view of the world to another, and the emergence of a new dimension through assorted cataclysms which are clearly mentioned. So we see not the end of the world, but a new beginning.
Perhaps it's time that we have a new story. The old story that we have in the West does not fit with a concept of the universe or the dignity of humanity in a global sense. We are not in accord with the wisdom of nature and our kinship with all life forms in the air, on land and the sea, or in the cosmos, for that matter. We are not separate from nature, nor its master, having been tossed here from someplace else! We are of the Earth, of the universe. Our eyes are the eyes of Earth, of the universe. Our voices are the voice of Earth, of the universe. We are indeed consciousness itself. There is an ancient Mayan greeting, en lakech – ‘I am another yourself’', that best states our relationship with all life forms. When we are weak and prone to our own negativity, we pollute the field of consciousness which, in turn, produces a negative reality.
We need a philosophy for the whole planet, not this group, that group or the other group. When one views Earth from the Moon, you don't see boundary lines or divisions indicating nations or states. The new story should be seen with the eye of reason, not nationality; the eye of reason, not my religion; the eye of reason, not my language group; the eye of reason, not my life form.
Nothing illustrates the eye of reason better than the following letter, sent by Chief Seattle of the Dwamish Tribe in Washington to President Pierce in 1855.
“THE GREAT CHIEF in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. The Great Chief also sends us words of friendship and good will. This is kind of him, since we know he has little need of our friendship in return. But we will consider your offer, for we know if we do not so the white man may come with guns and take our land. What Chief Seattle says you can count on as truly as our white brothers can count on the return of the seasons. My words are like the stars – they do not set.
How can you buy or sell the sky – the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. Yet we do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water. How can you buy them from us? We will decide in our time. Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing, and every humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father’s graves and his children’s birthright is forgotten. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage and does not understand.
There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to listen to the leaves of spring or the rustle of insect wings. But perhaps because I am a savage and do not understand – the clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lovely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night? The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind itself cleansed by a mid-day rain, or scented by a pinõn pine: The air is precious to the red man. For all things share the same breath – the beasts, the trees, and the man. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench.
If I decide to accept, I will make one condition. The white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers. I am a savage and I do not understand any other way. I have seen thousands of rotting buffaloes on the prairie left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive. What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit, for whatever happens to the beast also happens to the man.
All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth.
Our children have seen their fathers humbled in defeat. Our warriors have felt shame. And after defeat they turn their days in idleness and contaminate their bodies with sweet food and strong drink. It matters little where we pass the rest of our days – they are not many. A few more hours, a few more winters, and none of the children of the great tribes that once lived on this earth, or that roamed in small bands in the woods will remain to mourn the graves of the people once as powerful and hopeful as yours.
One thing we know that the white man may one day discover. Our God is the same God. You may think that you own him as you wish to own our land, but you cannot. He is the Body of man, and his compassion is equal for the red man and the white. This earth is precious to him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator. The whites, too, shall pass – perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. When the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses all tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by the talking wires, where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
We might understand if we knew what it was the white man dreams, what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights, what visions he burns into their minds, so they will wish for tomorrow. But we are savages. The white man’s dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden, we will go our own way. If we agree, it will be to secure your reservation you have promised.
There perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish. When the last red man has vanished from the earth, and the memory is only the shadow of a cloud passing over the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people, for they love this earth as the newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat. If we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your memory the way the land is as you take it. And with all your strength, with all your might, and with all your heart – preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves us all. One thing we know – our God is the same. This earth is precious to him. Even the white man cannot escape the common destiny.”
Is that not soul-stirring?
The way humans see the future varies widely between those who live by intellect and those who depend on intuition. It has to do with time. In the West, there is a beginning, a middle and an end. There is history. Intuitive cultures experience time as a cycle, such as Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, in a hoop, a circle. At the center of the hoop is the eternal present; these cycles revolve around that. There is no end.
The prospect of incorporating Ancient with Western thought is exciting, but could be dauntingly difficult. This notion might be considered, however, in an era that is very long on problems and seemingly short on answers. If somehow we could tip the balance toward growing our hearts instead of our wallets, the result might be astounding! Envision each tradition working side by side like tall pillars forming a gateway. Between them a new pathway winds into the future, with the best from both worlds enabling the physical and spiritual health and progress of the others. The combined strength of such a people renders a vision of a much deeper, richer existence for all."
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
Umbilicus (the author)
Chapter 1 – A New Story
Chapter 2 – The Hopi Nation
Chapter 3 – The Timeless Tao
Chapter 4 – What About Love?
The Bible
Mohandas Gandhi
White Blur (the author)
Khalil Jibran
Mother Teresa
The Rig Veda
Buddha
Pope John Paul II
Chapter 5 – Stalking Wolf, Apache Nation
Chapter 6 – Henry David Thoreau
Chapter 7 – Death
W.E.B. DuBois
Louisa May Alcott
Edward M. Kennedy
Go (For My Father) the author
Chapter 8 – Eyes of Fire, Cree Nation
Chapter 9 – Carlos Barrios, Mayan Elder
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Chapter 10 – Bennie LeBeau, Shoshone Nation
A Sioux Story
Chapter 11 – Red Elk, Intertribal
Chapter 12 – Self-Reliance
Preparedness
Recovery Lists
Temporary Shelters
Sanitation
Leo Tolstoy
And Lastly
Prayer for Earth (the author)
Excerpts, other books by the author
Apocalypse or Renewal? available now on Amazon
--Jo VonBargen 2012
